


The Road Less Traveled

by cloudsongs



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men (Original Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Male-Female Friendship, Road Trips, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-23 05:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10713348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudsongs/pseuds/cloudsongs
Summary: Two mutants: A runaway hitchhiker, and a solitary, amnesic man with adamantium claws. When both meet, an unlikely bond is made. One full of reluctance, friendship, and love. Beginning of X-1. Rogan.





	1. The Cage Fighter

Chapter 1  
“This is it.” A rough voice broke through her nightmare. She quickly grabbed her duffel bag and hopped out of the truck. She thanked the driver and cut through the grubby parking lot towards the bar. She felt lucky that this truck driver was decent enough to not try anything lecherous around her. Some of the other men she had asked were not as kind a soul as him.

  
Making sure that the glittering purple scarf that Grandma Ann had given her on my twelfth birthday covered her neck and that the brown leather gloves she stole from my mam was up to her elbows, Marie walked into the bar.

  
All around her, there were screaming people and various odors. She could look at people and tell that they were not safe to be around. The men –and women, she might add –had a terrible glint in their eyes. They’re slurred speech scratched her ears as the putrid smell of alcohol invaded her nostrils.  
She noticed, looming almost all the way up to the ceiling, was a cage. The first thing she saw was a couple men dragging another, limp man out of the cage. She watched in horror as the two men left him on the floor while another one came and purposely spilt his beer on him.

  
She turned my eyes back to the man still inside the cage. The only thing she could see was his strong back, tensed with every muscle ready to attack. They were covered in an array of purple and red bruises. In comparison to the man on the floor, she thought that the man in the cage was a bit smaller but undoubtedly stronger.

  
“In all my years I have never seen anything like that! Who’s next?” the emcee called out. People were still screaming in disapproval. “Are you gonna let ‘im walk away with your money?” Shouts erupted from the crowd.

  
A burly, bald man in the back stood up and yelled, “I’ll fight him!” Roars of endorsement followed him. Marie was pushed around a little as the man made his way through the crowd towards the cage. Her body stiffened as it collided with others.

  
“Ladies and gentlemen! Our savior!”

  
The man still in the cage held onto the fenced wall of the cage, trying to steady his breathing. Marie tried to get a closer look at the forthcoming fight. The laboring man threw away what seemed to be a shot glass. He held on to the cage.

  
Three digs from the bell later, the bald man attacked.

  
Baldy charged ahead, kicked the man on his back, toppling him over to the side, and then threw a punch. The wickedness of the crowd affected her, but she kept it in while they cheered. Baldy continually kicked the man. She pitied the man on the floor –she wondered why he hadn’t won the crowd even when he had won.

  
The man was still on the floor of the cage. Everyone was content in approval. Baldy was ready to throw another punch when suddenly, the man shot his arm out as well, and the two fists collided.

  
A sickening crack echoed throughout the cage.

  
Marie held her breath as the entire bar went silent, the sound of the cracked bones still reverberating in their ears. The bruised man had an undistinguishable look on his face. He got up and from the side, she could see his angry grimace as he stalked Baldy as though he was a prey. It no longer looked like a fight for money, but more like a fight for territory.

  
With a few seconds, Bruised Man had won.

  
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the emcee said again. “Tonight’s winner and still undefeated, the Wolverine!” Series of boos and displeasure followed. Wolverine ignored them and took another drink from a shot glass.

xxx

Her heart was beating so hard, she thought the whole bar could hear it. She couldn’t control it. How could she? Especially since Wolverine was sitting, drinking beer just five feet away from her. There was also the fact that the bartender already anticipated that she was planning on slipping some cash from the tip jar into her pockets and had given her a look before moving the jar behind him. As if that wasn’t enough of a scare.

  
Wolverine was drinking beer and staring at the table as if he had no reason to cheer for the fact that he had just won a cage tournament. Marie had heard of these tournaments before and was told that most of the time, all the prize money would end being spent at the bar itself by the winner to celebrate the win. Wolverine was not in the mood.

  
She was almost ashamed to admit that he was somewhat handsome. He was much taller than most men she had seen back home in Mississippi or on her trip here. But of course, he didn’t look like any ordinary man. His muscles seemed to bulge and strain from his leather jacket. His gelled dark brown hair drew down to long side burns almost into an untrimmed beard. A very rugged sort of handsome.

  
Two nondescript television anchors on the television in the corner of the bar began talking about a meeting for the world leaders at the summit. She saw him subtly raise his head when they mentioned “mutants” and she momentarily wondered if he was one or if he was another human who hated mutants. He must have realized he was being watched because he turned to her with a glare. They both glanced back at the television and back at each other, growing delicate suspicions towards one another.

  
Suddenly, Marie saw Baldy from the cage and another man behind him. Baldy’s left eye was rimmed purple, and his lip was split. “I believe you owe me some moey,” he said, trying to stady his glare on Wolverine.

  
“I don’t owe you nothin’,” Wolverine answered, never taking his eyes off his drink. Marie ddin’t think he was too worried about Baldy. She guessed that if he could take him once, his motto was that he could take him twice.

  
“No man could take a beating like that and show no mark from it!” Baldy protested furiously. He leaned in and whispered something behind Wolverine’s ears. It must have not been good because Wolverine turned and muttered something incoherent back to him. Wolverine went back to his drink, but it wasn’t long until another wave of assault was brought upon him. Baldy flipped out a knife from his belt, pointed towards Wolverine.  
“Hey, watch out!” Marie yelled out.

  
Everything went too fast for her to even comprehend. In a matter of a second, rows of blades protruded from Wolverine’s knuckles, the last one slowly edging until it stopped at the jugular of the now-victim’s neck. With the swing of his other arm, the rifle that had been held to the back of his neck by the bartender was cut in half by the knives.

  
He glanced back and forth from the two threats on either side of him and finally lowered his arms. He began to approach my direction, and Marie was sure that the entire bar could hear her heartbeat now. Was he going to hurt her for witnessing the revelation of his mutation?  
But Wolverine just walked past her with one final glare.

  
The handful of people that were left in the malodorous place were all staring at the empty spot of the mutant. Marie took a deep breath, grabbed her duffel bag, and ran out the same direction as Wolverine.

  
Outside, she saw Wolverine stand next to the door of a small camper. He was still and staring at his knuckles. Once he went inside, she climbed under a large green tarp next to his motorcycle. She breathed hard and felt the feeling of immense stupidity wash over her. This man was clearly dangerous.  
Instead, she ignored the voice of reason and rested her head against the duffel bag. Really, how bad could it possibly be?


	2. The Camper

This time, she woke to two dull jabs at her ribs and the sharp sting of the frosty air. She slowly turned her head, ignoring the pain in her back, to face the intruder, only to be met with the annoyed expression of Wolverine staring back at her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He was quiet but she could feel the animosity off him.

She climbed out of the tag-along wagon while Wolverine threw out her duffel back onto the road. "I'm sorry," she said, embarrassed and a little scared. "I thought you'd give me a ride."

"Well, you thought wrong," he replied curtly. "I can't help you." He went back to the front of his camper.

A flare of anger licked its way up her body. In the many months that she had been on the road, this was her first mutant. "You can't or you won't?"

"Your pick."

"I saved your life!" What a brute! He didn't even have the compassion to drop her off somewhere safe. The wind laughed at her, pinching her cheeks with the chill. She was surrounded by layers of trees –they were clearly far from any habitable place.

He paused for less than a second. "No you didn't." He waved her off as if she was a fly. He got into his camper and drove off.

A deep sadness grew in her chest. She had hoped he wouldn't notice her under the tarp so that she could be with him. He was the first mutant she had ever met and she didn't feel ready to let him go. She had left her home months ago and hadn't come across a single mutant. From what she observed on television, she had believed mutants were a rampant "issue" in America but on her arduous journey to Canada, all she heard were crickets. She wondered when she'd meet another mutant again.

About fifty yards away, the stopped and she knew she was saved…for now.

  


Silence was a key event that took place during the ride. He hadn't said a single arrogant thing since he told her to get in. In fact, he hadn't said a single word period.

She figured he probably meant for it to be a comfortable silence but her fingers curled and itched from the chill and the awkwardness. She felt that she had to say something.

"So…you're a mutant," she said, stating the most obvious fact. She mentally cringed, feeling a bit stupid. As if he didn't know or something.

Wolverine glanced at her. "What of it?" he asked gruffly. His hands were clenched around the steering wheel, fingers rapidly thrumming the worn leather. There was an enormous maroon bruise bleeding across his knuckles. The itching in her fingers grew and her heart beat faster. Maybe he didn't want to…

"Does it hurt? I mean when…um…when they come out?" She traced her own knuckles, grimacing. She didn't know what to call them, but he knew what she meant.

His fingers stopped thrumming the wheel and were completely clenched. His knuckles were white and looked very threatening. "Every time."

His simple answer threw them back into the setting of silence. She observed him again before speaking again. She noticed a chain around his neck.

"Were you in the army?" She eyed the dog tag. "Don't that mean you're in the army?"

She bent her gloved fingers to get some blood flowing. It felt like her bones were turning into ice. She quickly took her leather gloves off after some futile attempts to bring any warmth to them and began to rub her hands together.

Instead of answering her question, he tucked the chain away and turned on the heater. "Here, put your hands up here -." Wolverine reached for her hands to put them closer to the heater. Marie snatched them away from him as she could. "Kid, I'm not gonna hurt you." He rolled his eyes and focused back on the road.

"It's nothing personal," she murmured. "It's just that whenever someone touches my skin, somethin' happens. They get hurt." She waited for some sort of reaction from him – ready for him to stomp on the brakes and kick her out. The many times she avoided the touch of a trucker, she didn't always receive the best treatment as a result.

He gave a long hard look at her bare, pale hands. "Better for both of us then."

She frowned but felt more relaxed. The camper remained on course at a steady pace.

"Got a name, kid?"

She smiled. "Rogue." When she saw his unconfined confusion with a raised eyebrow, she mended. "It's Marie. But then again, what kind of a name is Wolverine?" Her heart swelled –when was the last time she said her name out loud?

He shrugged, ignoring her sarcasm. "It's Logan."

"It's nice to meet you, Logan," she said. Her southern accent was becoming more prominent. She still smiled when he gave her no reply.

Hours into their trip, they had learned a modicum of facts from each other. Logan liked smoking, drinking, and fighting –three things that he had not even said out loud. With cigar butts and whiskey bottles littered around the truck, Marie didn't have to observe too closely to gain this information.

She thought it was a miracle when he said anything at all. He was reluctant to share any personal information like his age or where he was from –but then again, she wasn't ready to share that information with him either.

Marie hoped he'd take a liking to her so that he wouldn't kick her out the next time they stopped in a city. She didn't have a single clue where to go next. She'd made it all the way up to Canada from Mississippi, hoping that she'd find something worthwhile. Nothing was planned at all. Not her mutation. Not his company. She had nowhere else to go if he left her.

"Where are we?" she asked after attempting to get a wink of sleep and failing. The mountainous terrain was similar to the one in Laughlin City.

"We'll be in Canmore in fifteen minutes. We can take a break there," he told her. He leaned across her to the glove compartment and pulled out a cigar and put it on the edge of his lips. She curled her body so that he wouldn't even brush against her. He pulled a lighter from his back pocket and lit it. An orange glow grew obtrusive.

She curled her lips in disgust. The smell of smoke had always given her an awful headache. "You know smoking kills." She nonchalantly played with a loose thread on the sleeve of her coat.

Logan raised an eyebrow and gave her a pointed look. "And?"

"Well…smoking can kill other people indirectly too. With cancer and stuff."

"Listen, kid, if you've got a problem with –" Logan was already changing the gearshifts when he stomped on the brakes.

"No!" Marie yelled out. "I was just sayin'. I don't mind you smoking."

He watched her carefully, her eyes wide, mouth open, ready to protest some more. He took the cigar out of his mouth and twisted the end into his hand. She heard his flesh sear under the heat. When he pulled the cigar away, she watched his skin close up, the redness disappearing. Her eyes were saucers. He reached into the glove compartment again, and she skittered towards her side of the door, getting out a tin that he dropped the cigar in.

He restarted the camper and started back on the road. Marie didn't want to admit it, but she was scared. She didn't want him to throw her out, much less have him angry at her. Despite his odd way of showing it, she appreciated that he did that. It was a side of him that she was glad to see.

It turned out that they didn't plan on staying in Canmore too long. They stopped at the outskirts of the city for a few minutes to fill up on gas and buy a to-go meal from a the "restaurant" attached to the gas station. The lack of vegetables made her think of how her mama would've disapproved.

Every few minutes, she could feel Logan's eyes on her. But she wasn't stupid enough to mention about when she was supposed to leave. And he didn't bother bringing it up either and for that, she was more than grateful.

About two hours later, they finally parked outside a nasty looking pit stop. The building containing the bathrooms looked as if one wrong move could ring the whole roof over their heads. Thank God her Uncle had gotten drunk every holiday and holed up in the bathroom during family gatherings which taught the children –and some of the adults who didn't bother pulling the man out –to hold their bladder.

As of now, Marie and Wolverine –mostly Marie –were both standing awkwardly at the back of the camper, trying to figure out sleeping arrangements.

The camper was small and smelled of gasoline and alcohol. One look at the man, she could tell he wasn't one to clean up messes himself. He definitely did not seem to be the home improvement sort. Any by one look at his camper, her accusations were proved. There was a small stove to the left with two barrels of gas underneath it. A small cot sat on the right covered with various sheets that weren't as white as they used to be. In front of the cot was a small cooler, filled with possibly a never-ending abundance of beer. The floor was completely filthy, covered in dirt and melted snow.

"Wow," she gasped aloud.

He turned to her. "What?"

She unattractively gwaffed at the sight. "Real homemaker you are, Logan."

"If you prefer the road –," he started, dramatically showing off the cold land surrounding us. "-be my guest."

"Looks cozy," she replied curtly. Marie briefly thought about sleeping in the truck instead but she knew she'd wake up to a crick in her neck and if she decided to lie across the seats, she'd stay awake with the gear shift up her ass.

Wolverine took off his jacket and shirt and threw it to one corner. He was brazenly half-naked and Marie couldn't help but stare. From all those beatings he took from the cage match, he didn't have a single bruise or scratch left on his body. His skin remained even over his large muscles and his lean abdomen. She looked away from his chest –afraid she resembled like a tomato – and focused on the dirt that she was going to sleep on instead. He pulled off the sheets and pillows from his cot and tossed it towards her. He grabbed a bottle of beer from his cooler and they both settled themselves in: him on the cot and her stuck on the dirty floor next to his cot using all the sheets he gave her as a barrier between the filth and herself.

Marie willed for sleep to come to her, but she was wide-awake. She was burning from excitement that entered her body since that morning. She could have blamed all the sugar in her system from their take-out meal but she knew better than that.

"Logan?" she whispered. "Are you awake?"

She heard him shuffling above her and a muffled "no."

"Logan, where were you heading off to? Before I came along, I mean." She waited fearfully for his answer; she hated the idea that she was reminding him that at some point, he'll eventually have to get back on track and go where he needs to go and leave a hitchhiker like her back on the road.

A long silence came from him. All she could hear was their inhales and exhales and the subdued chorus of crickets.

"I have no idea," he said quietly.

Marie lifted her head a little in attempt to see his face. "What do you mean?" she asked, curiously.

"It means, kid, that I got nowhere to go and nowhere to be," he sighed. He glanced down at her for a moment before looking back at the ceiling. A couple of light bulbs hung down from a wire, looking like thick spider webs. He took a beer bottle on the floor near the head of his bed and took a large swig. "Hope you weren't expecting anything," he said dryly.

She exhaled the breath she didn't know she was holding and almost laughed. A flurry of dust from the side of his cot danced around above her. She held her breath until they calmed and fell back on the floor. "Busy man like you looks like he needs to be somewhere." Her mind became content when she heard the gruff laugh above her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! If you have any suggestions, please feel free to share.


	3. The Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: mentions of intent to rape (not by main characters).

The next few days followed in the same pattern. They woke up at noon and slept at two in the morning. Food included take-outs (whenever Logan felt like it) and a whole lot of beef jerky. Showers happened every other day in old motels that were known for having prostitutes coming in and thankfully charged by the hour. Marie was scared the first time they stopped at one since the room itself looked like it contained every STD known to man. But she had to get over it if she ever wanted to be clean again. The first motel, Marie had selfishly insisted that Logan take his shower first so that she would be at her cleanest when they left the god forsaken place. She perched on the edge of the single bed gleefully at her trickery also knowing that Logan didn’t give it another thought. She heard the squeaky faucets turn and the water spraying into the tub. Marie entertained herself by opening up the bedside drawers. In one drawer, she found pamphlets for mutant eradication and a nudie magazine. Tucked away in one corner was a weathered Bible. She picked it up with her gloved hands and flipped through the yellow pages until she got to some clumped pages, stuck together by –

  
Marie dropped the book in horror, nearly gagging. What the fuck! She abruptly stood up and paced the room for the remainder of the time instead. Like she did every time they stopped somewhere and Logan was out of her sight, she rummaged through her duffel to make sure it was still there. Her fingers traced the metal exterior searchingly, relief flooding her mind that it was still there. It had taken her a lot of strength –and batting power, she thought fondly of the aluminum bat she brought from home –to acquire the gun from that greasy trucker at a pit stop. After the first few times a man had tried to paw at her, she figured it was time she got one herself. She didn’t know if the trucker she had beaten was good man or not but she knew she hadn’t injured him too badly. She clearly remembered that he stood up and limped after her.

  
She quickly shuffled the clothes in her bag when she heard the water turn off. In a few minutes, Logan emerged from the bathroom with droplets falling from the ends of his hair. “All yours,” he said grimly. She inhaled when he passed her, the scent of soap wafting off him. Marie entered the bathroom, a large smile stretching her cheeks at the thought of getting a hot shower. Her heart leapt to her throat at the sight of the torrent stains of yellow and black. She didn’t find herself emerged in the steam of a fresh shower. She grimaced when she saw the image of herself in the murky mirror pouting. What did you expect?

xxx

They never attempted to travel too much every day. Since the truth had been revealed that the neither of them had anywhere to go, a weight had been lifted off their shoulders. Still, most of the conversations they had sourced from her while he just answered whatever he felt like.  
He wasn’t exactly the hitchhiking buddy she’d dreamed about but she felt that he had softened up to her just a bit. He was…kinder to her. Even offered her the cot some nights. Yet, he remained independent of her, never letting her know anything personal about him. Marie believed her mother would’ve been very suspicious of him. She supposed everyone in Meridian would have –they were all family: no one kept secrets. Except her, of course.

  
People around the town knew her well enough to know her hopes and dreams for the future. They knew her as a daughter and as a friend. But only a palm full of people knew about her mutation.  
Cody was one of those people.

 

xxx

“Logan,” Marie nearly whined. She scrunched her nose at the smoke that was still wafting to her nose. She had mutely agreed to Logan smoking in the truck as long as he had his window open all the way.

  
“What do you want, kid?” he asked her, attempting to lean a bit closer to his door while failing to make sure she didn’t see his small act of compassion.

  
Marie felt a bit presumptuous asking but she felt she had to or she’d suffer longer than she ought to. “Can we stop somewhere and get something real to eat?” As good as beef jerky can be for a midnight (technically breakfast with their sleep schedule) snack, eating that after waking up to a growling stomach was enough to make her sick. Especially since they’ve been on this diet for more than a week.

  
“There’s some food in the bag. Grab me something too, will ya?” he answered, not seeing the obvious problem.

  
She scoffed and pulled the plastic bag underneath her seat. Inside were at least thirty packets of beef jerky. The other bags behind her seat contained all the torilla chips, Oreos, candy bars, beers, and soda. The first day, she was thrilled at the sight of so much food that would fill her stomach up. Now…well, now she just wanted an apple and some broccoli.

  
“Yeah, I know,” she groaned. “I’m perfectly aware of that.” She opened a packet for him and gave it to him. “But can’t we just stop and go into a restaurant for a change? I mean, have good food?”

  
“We’re running pretty low on cash, kid. I ain’t got time to take you to any fancy places anytime soon.”

  
Marie frowned. “I don’t want to go anywhere fancy; I just want to sit down somewhere and have a meal.” Her frown deepened. She was being presumptuous. Who was she to make demands to a man she’s only known for a week who was kind enough to take her in? And it wasn’t like she was having meals in diners that often while she was on her own either. In fact, the last time she sat and ate at a restaurant was a couple weeks after she left home –after that, she had run out of cash. She scowled thinking of why she had gone to Laughlin City in the first place. She glanced at Logan. She didn’t just crave the food she used to eat, but the relaxation of enjoying a good meal. A good meal with someone else.

  
“You must miss them a lot.” Logan wasn’t someone she’d want to call insensitive, but she hardly thought he was intuitive to pick up on that.

  
She shook her head. “I don’t know.” Marie thought about her family a lot –especially her mother. Despite what she’d say to anyone, her mother had been her true friend all her life. She had been the one that bought Marie her world map when Marie mentioned her thoughts of traveling. But that last look she saw….

  
Marie hoped he’d say something –something about himself that would resonate with how she felt. Something to show that they had some type of bond stronger than a savior-hitchhiker relationship.

  
But once again, Logan ignored the signs and just sighed. “Hey, kid,” he said.

  
Marie tilted her head.

  
“I’ll take you somewhere nice.” He had a sad smile on his face –the first one she’d seen at all –and she really wanted to ask him why. She held back and tried not to ruin the moment.

  
After a pause, she teased, “You promise?”

  
“Yeah.”

 

 

His promise wasn’t full-filled that very day. Or the next. Marie didn’t think he forgot or couldn’t find any places to take her, but she didn’t push him or remind him. She remembered he had said that they were low on cash and probably wouldn’t have been able to afford to stop anywhere anyway.  
“Kid, we need to stop at a bar today,” Logan told her that evening. She nodded. They were in a little town called Maryfield. Marie felt a bit proud to say that was actually smaller than Meridian.

  
It felt like she hadn’t been in a bar so long that she considered it foreign, even though it had only been about a week. Chewey’s bar was no longer a regular bar. Cage fighting had found its way into nearly all bars these days. She didn’t understand its popularity considering it revolved around a bunch of drunken men beating the living hell out of one another. But if that’s what Logan needed to do to earn money, she wouldn’t make a peep.  
In this bar, there were more women dressed scantily, draped over men at various stage of drunkenness. Marie thought nearly everyone there was intoxicated except maybe the employees, Logan, and her.

  
A small booth stood in a corner in the back. Logan told her that that was where everyone placed bets.

  
“Can I place one?” she asked him.

  
“Yeah, sure,” he said, distracted. He handed over a couple twentys. “It’s all we got, kid.”

  
She squinted a little, scrutinizing him. “Promise not to lose?”

  
He actually laughed this time, a low throaty one, that sent shiver down her spine and gave her a pointed look. “I don’t lose.”

  
Marie knew that with Logan’s mutation (whether that included super strength or not…although his muscular body told another story) there was no way they would lose. Logan headed towards the cage to put his name in. She pulled her green coat tighter and walked to the booth.

  
A bored looking woman with straggling orange hair sat behind the makeshift, cardboard booth.

  
“I’d like to make a bet on Wolverine,” she said, signing his name on the roster of people that were fighting tonight. She handed the woman the two bills. The woman sighed as if she wanted to be anywhere but here. Marie didn’t blame her.

  
“Are you, or have ever been, or ever will be a mutant?” she asked lazily.

  
Oh, Jesus Christ.

  
Marie scoffed and shook her head as though the woman had offended her, and she somewhat had. The woman took her money and Marie headed towards the cage.

  
Ten minutes later, she stood outside the cage while Wolverine took of his jacket and shirt and tossed them towards her. She was used to seeing him half-naked. Even if this was a regular occurrence, she would probably never actually get used to seeing his body. The way his muscles moved under his skin –the way they tightened when he was tense and prepared. Marie blushed.

  
She neatly folded his clothes and stood behind a group of people where she still had a good view of him. The emcee this time was a young woman with long, red hair. She wore a yellow and green, skin-tight suit with knee-high leather, high-heeled boots. She looked like she walked straight out of a comic book. The woman waved her arms around as she introduced the fighters. She called Wolverine’s name last. Marie could see from where she stood that the woman had winked at him.

  
Marie rolled her eyes and grumbled a little. She preferred the emcee in Laughlin City.

  
The first two men to fight were both beefy and equally drunk. The one with the gauge earring had won. One by one, Gauge-Man beat up the other drunken men, treating them like rag dolls and throwing him out of the cage. After the first two people he had taken out with blood splattering on the mat, Marie got familiar with the violence and relaxed a bit.

  
“This is my cage! I’m the king of this cage!” he yelled out into the crowd.

  
Marie grimaced. What an embarrassing thing to declare, she thought, especially since he was facing off Wolverine in the next round.

Once Marie looked away from the cage, she searched for Wolverine. He was the next fighter after a short break, so he should be getting ready to step in. Finally, she spotted him at the bar, sitting next to the emcee, taking a shot with her. The emcee gleamed like a doll and placed one hand on his bare arm, and the other on his thigh.

Marie felt a bit annoyed since she was doing what she was supposed to –which was support him and there he was not even taking the match that seriously. She huffed and turned away from them. “It’s not fair,” she groused to herself. She couldn’t answer the logical question in her head: What’s not fair?

Within a few minutes, Logan was in the cage with Gauge-Man with the emcee outside cheering for him. Marie went towards the bar as the match began to sit at the seat where Wolverine and the emcee had been sitting in earlier. She stared at the tipping jar in front of her. It was a repetition of Laughlin City except this time, she felt truly alone.

Suddenly, she was surrounded by throngs of sweaty people. Sweaty, wasted people ready to get another drink. Marie tried to sneak away from her seat and get lost in the crowd outside the cage again, but luck was not on her side tonight.

“Baby, where you goin’?” a slurred voice called out. Marie tried not to turn to look back and just pushed through the people straight towards the cage. The man didn’t get a hint. A thick hand wrapped itself around her arm and yanked her back. She was face-to-face with a sweaty man, the putrid smell of his breath washing over her face.

“Let go, or I’ll scream,” she said in a low voice.

The man sniggered before pulling something out and holding it to her side. Marie felt a sharp point digging into her skin. “That’s what I was goin’ for sweetheart.”

She desperately looked at the men and women around her, hoping to catch someone’s eye but no one paid her any attention. Most of them were already drinking or crying over their wounds. Marie breathed hard as the man dragged her to the back of the bar and out the backdoor, far from the booth she had initially been at and unquestionably far from Wolverine. She struggled against him, but he only kept his threat of the knife closer to her body. Once they were outside, he threw her onto the ground, and kept one foot on her as he wobbled closer with his other foot.

Marie crawled back quickly and kicked his shins. She scrambled to her feet and pulled off one of her gloves and held her hands up.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch me.” Her voice quivered but she kept her gaze hard and strong on him. She hurriedly glanced around her feet as if it would materialize her duffel bag with her precious weapon. The last couple men who tried this backed down very easily after seeing the gun aimed right at their chests. At least the gun would have been the safer alternative. The man, unfortunately didn’t have an option and didn’t listen and charged at her, fury written on his face, curses spewing out of his mouth. In an act of defense, she reached out and pushed his face. It didn’t take long. Even less time than it took Cody to pass out.

  
_Jeremy Smith, aged 37, divorced, two kids, abusive parents…a failure at life._

  
Watching him lay there with his eyes open in fear –fear of her –she didn’t really know who the bad guy was here. But as the images of his life passed through her mind, she saw the image of what he planned to do to her. She saw her body, naked and forced to the ground as he raped her. She saw herself screaming and him having the power to quiet her. She saw anger he would take out on her body. Her resolve drained from her body.  
She went back inside without a sound or another look back at the man. She grabbed Wolverine’s clothes from the bar and stood outside the cage where she was supposed to.

  
The crowd was already angry because almost everyone had bet on Gauge-Man. The emcee was holding up Wolverine’s hand, cheering his name on. Marie watched Wolverine, trying to focus on the one thing that wouldn’t make her scream over what just happened.  
Their eyes met and she could see the question in his, but Marie shook her head and gave him a small smile.

  
“Kid, what’s going on?” Logan asked her after collecting their winnings for the night. He split the four rolls of cash into two and closed her hand over her half. Marie felt a twinge of guilt from the happiness in her heart. Our winnings. Her smile dropped when he saw his other winning slowly trailing behind them.

  
“It’s nothin’,” she told him. She contemplated the woman behind them and sighed. Leaning closer to him, she said, “I’m going to head to the camper. You go celebrate.” Marie tilted her head quickly towards the emcee, orientated close by.

  
Even in the dim lights, she saw the question building in his face. “Not much to celebrate, when we both knew I was going to win.” He had a smirk on his face. Marie glowed.

  
Marie lifted her eyebrows. “Are you sure? You have a pretty lady waiting for you.”

  
She thought he was going to agree and walk away but he surprised her when he nodded, ruffled her hair, and put his arm around her shoulder. Her shoulders stiffened at his touch but her muscles loosened a bit when she remembered that she was covered fully from the neck down. “You’re right,” he said. “Now, let’s go.”

  
They walked out of the bar, hearing a loud “Bastard!” behind them. When Marie looked quizzically at him, he replied with a short, “She paid for my drinks.” Marie’s resolve faltered and she laughed out loud. She felt the tears spring up in her eyes. “Bastard,” she echoed with the woman.


	4. The Attack

Chapter 4

When they started driving again, Marie held her tongue and her tears. She felt hollow and heavy at the same time. It was happening all over again. She could feel him lingering in her head. It was small and brief so it felt like he almost wasn't there. Her hands were on his skin for a lot less time than before. But she felt him there, faintly, but still there, next to Cody.

His bright had green eyes adored her, crinkling when he smiled when she said something he thought was "cute." His arms draped lazily over her back, picking at her cotton dress. His bright, white smile when she said a joke that she couldn't remember anymore. He was the "boy next door." Their history professor had paired them because he knew he'd never hear the end of it if he hadn't. They'd spent almost an hour in her room and not a single page of their project was completed. They lazed the afternoon away. She claimed the first place she'd go was New York, New York in a poor accent and he told her he was going to Alabama State on a college scholarship for wrestling.

She loved him so dearly, she thought, when she held the back of head softly and brought him in for a congratulatory kiss. She pulled back abruptly when she heard him gag and gasp underneath her. But that was all it took. In those few seconds, she sucked in his memories and put him in a coma.

He was so pale.

It hurt so much, the first week. The pain of a million memories flowing through her mind –the words of family members she didn't know, the image of how his body looked under his clothes, his emotions when he thought about her. Eventually, the stream of thoughts and memories halted and the pain in her head subsided but the pain in her heart grew. The memories never came back. But she felt him there –burrowed in her mind, observing her –watching her every move. She shuddered at the thought of Jeremey residing in the recesses of her mind doing the same.

Jeremey was nothing like Cody. There was the brief immediate thoughts but they stopped almost as soon as she left his body on the ground. She clenched her hands and bit the inside of her cheek. A great big sigh released from her lungs. With one last glance at Logan, she succumbed to exhaustion.

Marie's eyes fluttered open when the sunlight shone on her face. The clock on the dashboard read 7:15AM and Logan was still driving. She glanced at him. He didn't look like he had taken a break from driving. His bruises from his knuckles that she had seen when she first hopped into his truck were gone. The skin over his knuckles were smooth and untouched.

"Morning," he said. The word was muffled with the cigar between his lips. The scent of his last smoke hung thick in the air. He always greeted her this way every morning. She was glad that they had some type of morning ritual. "Are you feeling alright? You knocked out for almost two days."

She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Her heart jumped when she felt dried tears on her cheeks. Images of Jeremy flooded her mind. "What? Why didn't you wake me?" she asked incredulously.

"I gave up after you punched me the first couple times," he said pointedly. "I gotta hand it to you, kid, you've got a mean right hook." He tapped his chin to indicate where she hit him.

"What!" she exclaimed. Punched him? Marie pulled off her gloves and examined her knuckles carefully and noticed the spotty bruises forming under her skin. Marie had never punched a human being before –she had certainly beat someone with a baseball bat, but she had never violently laid a hand on someone. To think she did that to Logan of all people perplexed her. "I'm so sorry, I would never do that on purpose."

The corner of his mouth lifted. "At least I have an idea of how you got by before."

"Baseball bat, Wolverine," she grinned. "Does wonders to get what you want."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "A baseball bat? That's what you've been using up to now?" He paused for a good moment before asking, "How long have you been away from home?"

Marie shrugged. "Four months."

"From?"

"Mississippi," she mumbled.

Logan remained quiet for a few minutes, letting it soak in. "You got to Canada in four months from Mississippi with a baseball bat as your only weapon." He smiled at her. "Atta, girl."

Marie rolled her eyes. "Alright, alright save the applause. I know: I kick ass." She waved her hands as if she were calming down a group of fans.

"Did you ever use..."

It was a loaded question that slammed a wave of emotions into her chest. She bit down the inside of her cheek hard and cursed the tears that sprang to her eyes. Not until yesterday. Many unkind men and women crossed her path for the last four months. The baseball bat had been enough for a lot of it and so had been the pocket knife she stole from her father until she lost it a few weeks ago when crossing the US-Canada border with an import of horses. "I don't want to answer that –."

Suddenly, Logan swerved to the left and Marie's body slammed against her door. The camper shook as it hit the grooves and holes in the dirt and the roots of the trees. Logan yelled a series of curses while Marie screamed.

Finally, the camper crashed into a strong tree so roughly that the branches fell on the hood.

It was so silent Marie thought she could hear Logan's heartbeats. She was about to scream at him but the concentration on his face kept her quiet. When he didn't address her, she thought it was safer to whisper her question.

"What's wrong?"

All hell broke loose.

The sound of shattering glass and growls reached her ears. A large, thick arm covered in light brown fur broke through the windshield and latched its clawed hand around Logan's throat and tore the man out of his seat. More glass splintered as Logan was pulled out, but Marie could finally see the assailant.

He was as tall as Logan –nearly taller – and covered entirely in furs. He had a mop of greasy blond hair hanging to his shoulders. His fangs bared at Logan.

Marie heard the sound of Logan's sharp claws emerge from his knuckles as Logan began to attack back at the beast. Marie used their distraction as her opportunity to escape the camper. The dashboard has been crumpled up so princely that the whole thing leaned against her legs. She quickly unbuckled her seatbelt and tried to twist her torso upwards so she could squeeze her legs out.

They wouldn't budge.

Behind her, she heard a loud clang and a poof. She hurriedly looked over her shoulder. The gas barrels had fall over –she was sure of it. Otherwise she wouldn't be seeing such a large fire through the camper window. She tried to open her door but the entire side had been crushed –leaving her unable to open it.

In front of her, suddenly very far away, Logan and the other man were still fighting. Even through all her dejected struggles, she thought that the animal Logan was fighting looked a lot like the Wolverine in the cage. Territorial and possessive. The man fought with purpose while Logan defended, no longer thinking about the confusion of the attack.

Smoke from the fire behind her began to alienate her nose. Marie ducked as she had learned when she was younger about fire safety. That definitely did not work. Her eyes were already beginning to water. She raised her head to gauge the distance between herself and Logan. Then she realized she didn't give a damn.

"Logan!" Marie screamed. "I'm stuck!" She could barely raise her voice, coughts following and masking nearly all her words. It was clearly the wrong thing to do because he distractedly turned to her, giving the other man the opportunity to hit his head. Before Logan could fall, the man picked him up and punched him in the gut. Logan flew until he crashed onto the hood of the already-destroyed camper.

"Logan!" Marie leaned as far as she could so she could reach him with her gloved hands. She held tightly to his hand, fearing him dead. His hand had a long gash along the row of knuckles.

Please don't die.

Fear began to course through her body. What was she going to do? The man in the furs was certainly going to come after her now. She let go of his hand and began struggling harder against the dashboard, screaming in frustration when she couldn't move even an inch. "Logan, get up!"

The cut on his knuckles slowly vanished, sealing itself up. A shadow of a bruise appeared. A loud groan escaped from Logan's mouth. He turned and looked her right in the eye. A long gash on his forehead closed up. His eyes traveled behind her as he glared at the growing fire.

He rolled off the hood, ran over to her side, and pulled open the door with one swift. Just before he could pull her out as well, the furred man yanked him away from her once again.

The smoke was already invading her lungs. She could barely breathe. She leaned to her right to keep pulling but to no avail. Marie reached under her seat and struggled to dig through the bag to reach the gun. She felt the handle brushing against the tip of her fingers. Almost…there.

Suddenly, blue filtered her eyes. She glanced up and saw a shamelessly naked blue woman standing beside her. Her eyes were bright yellow, like a cat's. Her skin had so many intricate designs on them; Marie wondered if it was really her skin or a suit. Thin, centipede-like tentacles began to lift up from the woman's body, pulling back all the blue to show actual skin.

Replacing the woman was a large man about four feet wide and muscles that even Logan couldn't compete with. Small tufts of blond hair stood up from the man's (woman's?) head. The creature reached for the dashboard and pushed it swiftly away from Marie's legs. Marie scampered away from her seat and fell back onto the second assailant, the gun slipping under her coat sleeve.

The blue centipede-tentacles pulled itself back onto the man's body and replaced him with the blue woman again. Marie watched her in revulsion as the woman dragged her out of the camper by her wrist and into the woods.

"Logan! Logan!"

This time, Logan didn't look at her. With a roar, he drove his claws straight into the chest of the furry man. The man growled lowly, but succumbed to the pain. In a nick of time, he ran in Marie's direction.

"That idiot," Marie heard the blue woman say. Her voice sounded like a serenade of several different voices. Marie took the woman's distraction to click off the safety of the gun and aim it at the woman's leg. She gritted her teeth and pressed down on the trigger. A loud screech echoed above Marie's head as she dropped to the ground. "Sabertooth, come!" the woman screamed. She limped off quickly into the woods. To Marie's surprise, the man she called Sabertooth got up and speedily jumped towards the blue woman's direction.

Logan stopped and crouched next to her. Marie could tell he was debating with himself to stay with her or run after the two attackers. Marie didn't care what he did. She just enjoyed the sweet, clean air.

"Marie," Logan said her name softly. She nodded, letting him know that she was okay.

"What was that?" she asked him. Her voice was raspy and lower than it normally was. She cleared her throat a little, but it didn't help much.

"I have no idea." He stared into the woods again, probably considering whether things were safe yet. "We've gotta get out of here." They both turned to the damaged camper. Flames were spewing from within the truck so they knew nothing left was salvageable. "Guess we're walking," he muttered. Then he stared at her. "A gun?"

Marie breathed deeply, a determined look on her face. "A baseball bat and a gun kept me alive for four months and got me from Mississippi to Alberta." I am justified.

Logan sighed, his eyebrows drawing together in thought. He helped her stand and made sure she was able to walk. Marie's legs ached horribly but she wasn't about to slow him down.

They were off.

A couple minutes later, they heard an explosion.


	5. The Plan

They walked for more than an hour and thirty minutes along the road and not a single car or truck stopped for them. Marie usually had trucks that would stop for her, but now that she was walking with a man who even without his claws looked like he could kill someone –she didn't stand a chance.

She could tell Logan was wary and nervous by the stiffness in his shoulders every time he heard a loud noise. She understood. She was afraid those two would return but maybe with more mutants. Then it hit her.

"Logan, wait."

Logan's claws protruded from his knuckles as he turned around in a defensive pose. Marie checked around to make sure no one saw them. He retracted his claws back.

"No, it's not that. I'm just…confused. Those two were mutants. Why in the world would they attack us?"

Logan sighed, pulling one hand down his face. He was tired; she could see it. "I really don't know."

Marie felt sad for him. That was his home. Although it was not pleasant or sanitary, that was how he lived. At least before, she found truckers and rudimentary beds under tables. He found bars to fight in and a reasonably comfortable cot in the back of his camper. Together, they were an unlucky team. It was the two of them against the world.

Marie rummaged to her pockets suddenly, gasping happily when her hands pulled out the two rolls of cash she received the night before. She handed both to Logan, gleefully smiling when he gave her a strong pat on the back. She frowned when she caught the sullen look on his face. She tapped his arm a couple times and gave him a small sympathetic smile. "We'll be okay. As soon as we get into a nearby town, we'll pick up." Marie didn't know exactly how they were going to do this or why she kept saying "we" when Logan could drop her the second they reached civilization.

"Where did you get a gun?" Logan asked suddenly.

Taken aback by the question, Marie answered, "I stole it off some guy a few weeks back." She sweated at the silence she received from Logan. "For protection, mostly." The memory of the trucker on the ground slipped through her mind. The sound of the bat colliding with his head still rung in her ears as she used his body as her stepping stool to get into the truck again and grab the gun. She had mentally thanked her father for taking her to the gun range when she was younger and "daddy's girl." Then she had half-considered stealing the truck too but gave up the idea as quickly as it arrived.

"Why were you at that bar?"

The blood drained from Marie's face. _How the hell did he know?_ "I-I –," she started but quickly shut her mouth. Fear surged through her body.

"You're not the first one's that tried, kid." Logan put one hand on her shoulder and stopped her in her tracks. "And I'm glad you didn't –it would've been real stupid of you. That bartender would have shot you dead before you even tried to ask for the money."

Marie scrambled to save her reputation. "I'm not that kind of person, I promise. I wouldn't have stolen from you. I-I-." She stopped herself again to catch her breath. "I was alone, hungry and penniless. That asshole who drove me over the border took all my money. I was desperate, Logan. But I would not have stolen from you." She pleaded with eyes that he'd believe her. Logan glowered at her once more before resuming to walk. "I'm sorry," she said quietly behind him.

"I believe you." He tossed one roll of money back to her. She quickly caught it and tucked it into her pocket, next to her gun. Marie beamed.

They kept walking until Marie could hardly feel her feet. Added to that, she already had bruises up her legs from the dashboard. Her lungs ached from the smoke and her throat burned for water. Logan did just fine, quashing out all the pain she felt in her hips, thighs, and feet.

A few minutes later, they found a dirt road that led to a place called Shilling Pastures, a grazing land for livestock. Since it was already dark, all the animals were already gone by the time the two reached the pasture.

Logan said that since there would be several farms close by, they could find one in the morning and get a ride to the next town. With a bar. A cage-fighting bar.

But for now, they had to stick to sleeping on the ground. It was only slightly cold since summer was just around the corner but just as uncomfortable as sleeping outside during a winter night. Marie snuggled as much as she could into her coat, but if one part of her body was warmly covered, some other appendage would be touched by the cold. She was thankful that the ground was solid and not gooey and muddy. She looked over at Logan every few minutes to see how he coped but he didn't seem to be suffering the way she was at all. "L-L-Logan," she shivered. He looked at her over the grown grass in concern. Marie didn't know exactly what to say. "Just…thanks." It was beyond her to understand how another mutant took her in for two weeks and then bothered to save her life…again.

He obviously didn't see what she was thanking him for, but once again received it. His eyes rested on her shivering form, softening when her body curled in more to hold in the heat. "Kid, c'mere."

Marie glanced up at him in confusion until she his one arm opening his jacket, inviting her in. She shook her head vehemently. _My skin!_

"Suit yourself," he said. Still, he left his arm out away from his body. The cold seeped through her skin into her sore, beaten muscles. It was enough for her to scoot closer to his side. _I'm covered up_ , she defended in her head. Logan took that as his chance and scooped her into him, letting her rest her head on his chest, his hand resting softly on her back. Marie's heart thudded quickly in her chest and she squeezed her eyes shut in concentration to slow it down for him not to hear it. She was glad he couldn't see her face as she felt her face warm from more than the heat radiating off his chest. Marie took this as his sign of forgiveness.

They both looked up and stared at the full moon. It was a clear night, not a cloud in sight. The moon swelled full and bright. Marie's mother was a superstitious woman and wouldn't leave the house after sundown if there was a full moon. She truly believed that it had the ability to drive a person to madness and unluckiness. Marie teased the idea that maybe her mother wasn't wrong about it for once.

"Why is the moon so lonely?" Logan asked her, crossing one arm behind his head as a provisional pillow. He squeezed her to him again as if to make sure she was still there, close to him. Her blush deepened.

"You tryin' to tell me a story?"

"Do you wanna hear it or not?" he countered.

Marie grinned. "Okay, sure. I think I've heard this one though but I don't know. Why _is_ the moon so lonely?"

"Because she used to have a lover."

Marie let out a loud, hearty laugh followed by a strong cough. "Wow, Wolverine, where'd you fetch this one?" she asked him, amused.

He gave her a smile as well. "From my ass, where else?" Marie grinned. "No idea, kid. Suddenly remembered it."

She stopped smiling. This was the first time Logan was willing to share anything about his past.

"His name was Koo-koo-ka-somethin' and they lived in the spirit world together."

"Oh, so this is a true story."

"Of course," he answered sarcastically.

"And you mean Kuekuatsu?"

"You heard this one?"

"No," she lied. "I want to hear you say it."

She listened to him say the story, patiently waiting when he paused to remember parts of it. She looked upwards at him, examining his features. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration –but there was a softness in them. He seemed surprised. She deliberated whether to tell him about what happened at the bar. He already knew about her poorly planned robbery. But she wasn't sure whether Jeremy was still alive or not but if he wasn't, there were sure to be people looking for her. People saw him leave with her. Or would his death look normal? She didn't know. Cody didn't look normal.

Marie decided against it. They had enough on their plates –adding murder to it wouldn't be helping anything. It'd be something she'd have to explain when they caught her.

"Logan," she murmured.

"Yeah, kid?"

"Did you have your own Moon?" Her heart thrummed again like a hummingbird's wings.

He froze. "You ask a lot of questions." He closed his eyes for a moment. "I should be asking you some instead. You smell different."

"I _smell_ different? You _smell_ me?" Marie's face burned a bit at the thought.

Logan raised his arm from the ground with his knuckles facing her. "Comes with the package. Just wanted to make sure you're alright."

"I guess I am," she said. She guessed she was as much as she could be after getting attacked by mutants and having her only possessions set on fire. And possibly killing somebody. "Logan?" she called again. Marie knew it was too good to be true to learn more about his past.

"What is it, kid?" Frustration laced his voice; she chose to ignore it.

"Goodnight." She snuggled in a little closer.

He sighed. "Night, kid."


End file.
